Grand Admiral Daala's Reaction
by Quillian
Summary: One shot, sequel to Grand Moff Tarkin's Proposition!  Title pretty much says it all...


**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own _Star Wars_, etc.; George Lucas does.

**SPECIAL DISCLAIMER:** The "Reborn" cycle is an amazing collection of AU stories by **Kenya Starflight**; if you read that first, then this should make more sense. Also, this is the sequel to my first-ever _Star Wars_ story and one-shot, "Grand Moff Tarkin's Proposition".

**SUMMARY:** I was reminiscing on my fic with Tarkin in it, and got this idea in my head. **Kenya Starflight** gave me permission to write this, and so I did! Thanks, KS!

**WARNING:** There are some potential spoilers for the Jedi Academy trilogy by Kevin J. Anderson in this fic, especially concering Grand Admiral Daala herself, the scientist Qwi Xux, and the highly secret Maw installation. _I suppose you don't have to have read all that stuff first; you could just look this stuff up on Wikipedia or something._

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"**_Grand Admiral Daala's Reaction,"_**

_By Quillian_

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_Dedicated, obviously, to **Kenya Starflight**._

_Also dedicated to **Red Witch**, whose hilarious "Misfits" series and other _X-Men: Evolution _fanfics inspired me with this fic and its prequel, in terms of all the drunken craziness._

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It was just another day as usual for Grand Admiral Daala.

That is, until her lover, Grand Moff Tarkin, dropped by for a visit.

In Tarkin's lavish mansion on the watery world of Mon Calamari, her needs were attended to by Mon Calamari and Quarren servants. The Empire had a bad case of such blatant sexism, and often, even the same stupid, foolish men whom Daala had surpassed in her studies got the positions which she actually deserved. Fortunately, that great man Wilhuff Tarkin saw her for who and what she truly was.

Getting out a bottle of the best Alderaani wine, she was just putting the finishing touches on the dinner she was preparing when she saw that her beloved Tarkin had come home.

She rushed up to greet Tarkin…

…Only to find that he had a bruise on the side of his face.

"Wilhuff!" she gasped. "What happened?"

Tarkin merely sighed. "Grand Madam Bekme Olie got a little… bitchy with me."

Daala raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Well, what caused her to be like that?"

Tarkin shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe she was just in a bad mood."

"Hm," Daala said, contemplating. "Anyway, I'm going to go out for a moment, get some fresh air."

Outside, she saw a couple of stormtroopers bringing things off of Tarkin's shuttle, and Daala just happened to catch some of the things they were saying.

"Hey, did you hear about what happened?"

"What?"

"That guy – what's his name? Piett? – saw Tarkin get _smashed_ on Bakuran wine."

"No way!"

"Oh, _believe_ me, he saw it happen. And you want to know what happened next?"

"No, what?"

"He lewdly propositioned Olie," the trooper said with a laugh. "That explains the bruise on his face – she decked him!"

As they both shared a laugh, Daala froze in her tracks… and the next moment, she stalked back into her home.

"Oh, there you are, my dear," Tarkin said cheerfully.

Daala shot him a poisonous glare, and the next moment, she impulsively kicked Tarkin right in the crotch.

As he keeled over, she gave a cry and stormed off.

Sometime later, she could be found in her room, consuming the same Alderaani wine she was saving for her dinner with Tarkin. Well, since dinner was now ruined, why bother?

Just several minutes after Tarkin went out on his yacht, another ship came in. This ship's important passenger was one Grand Admiral Thrawn.

Entering the home, Thrawn asked around. "Grand Moff Tarkin?" he called, holding his hat in front of his chest as a sign of respect.

Just then, he heard a crash upstairs. Fearing something had happened, the Chiss did his bit as a dutiful Imperial and rushed upstairs to see what the problem was.

Taking out his blaster, he stepped near the door, straining to hear anything else which would indicate what was going on.

The next moment, Thrawn heard a blaster shot and the sound a woman screaming. Before he knew what he was doing, he barged in, blaster drawn.

And then he saw her.

She reclined in her chair, one arm sprawled over the side and the other holding up a cup of wine. She was a beautiful woman – well, apart from the fact that her hair was askew, her eyes were unfocused, and she giggled softly.

At this point, Thrawn put his blaster back in his holster, wondering what to do now.

She hiccupped, and turned to look at him. "Ooh, Thrawn…" she said in girlish tones. "You came by."

"Grand Admiral Daala?" he asked, puzzled.

She then laughed. "You knew my name!" she exclaimed happily. "At least you're better than that stupid NERFHERDER… what was his name? Tartin? Fartkin? Ah, _whatever_…"

Thrawn now raised an eyebrow. "Grand Admiral Daala… you've obviously had a lot to drink…"

"So what?" she exclaimed incredulously. "You're _nothing_ like that no-good full-of-himself womanizer TARKIN!" Here she giggled like a schoolgirl, and then looked thoughtful for a moment, before saying something else. "So Thrawnie… how's your art collection these days?"

"It is… quite good…" Thrawn said, trying to keep his composture as best as he could; now that Daala was standing up, her dress came a little undone, baring one shoulder and the front of her dress hitched up to show off one of her legs.

"You know, Thrawn… I'm sure you can make very good art," she said huskily. "How about I model for you?"

Thrawn's face was now starting to turn a little lavender as he blushed and she advanced on him. It didn't help matters when she ran her fingers down his chest.

"I am afraid that I must politely decline your offer," Thrawn croaked, wishing he would rather take on an entire planetary rebellion than deal with Grand Moff Tarkin's drunken lover.

She laughed strangely. "I think not," she replied coyly.

Daala had Thrawn trapped, and she moved ever so closer to him…

In the meantime, Tarkin had forgotten something for his yacht, and so he quickly dashed back up to his room to retrieve whatever it was.

Tarkin entered his room just in time…

…To see Daala kiss a bewildered Thrawn squarely on the lips.

And with that, the Grand Moff let out a scream loud enough to be heard for at least a kilometer around.

Fortunately, however, the next morning, everything was cleared up.

Daala was watching Thrawn's shuttle take off.

"Daala, my dear…" Tarkin said as he walked up to her, with the bruise on his face healing quite nicely. "Look… we both realize that we've done things wrong, and we both could have done some things a lot better."

Daala merely grunted a response, letting him know that she was acknowledging him.

"Anyway, I have this new secret installation in charge… located in The Maw, actually… and I was just wondering if by any chance you would be interested in running it? You'll have at least four Star Destroyers, one of those new 'Death Stars' under construction, and plenty of other weapons in the making to keep you entertained. Interested?"

Slowly, she gave a small smile. "I'll think about it, dear."

"Excellent."

**FIN**

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A/N: So, how was this, for the sequel to my first-ever _Star Wars_ fanfic?

Thanks for reading this, and please don't forget to check out my other stuff! –_Quillian_


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